Overlap
by Farseeker
Summary: Severus ponders the meaning of perfection, and discovers what he defines as 'perfect'. Slash, and a little angsty. Would be G but for the slash.


**Author:** Farseeker

**Pairing:** Not telling, it's fairly obvious.

**Warnings:** Slash.

**Rating:** PG-13. Would be G, except that it's slash and I don't think kids would be able to handle the idea, sadly.

**Author's Notes:** Before anyone yells at me for not working on HPPOW, the chapter is being done. I can't write when I have inspiration for other things though, so deal with it. The lyrics for the song that inspired this are down the bottom.

I love to watch him.

If I stand still, look away and pretend not to be paying attention, he will smile. Smile, and laugh, and whisper to his friends; whisper all the secrets that I sometimes wish he would reveal to me. When I do watch, however, when I do focus all of my attention on him and only him he does not smile. He frowns, and the expressions that I love to watch flick across his face as he talks fade away to anger, and a sullen kind of fear. It is…disappointing. There are reasons, of course, and there will always be reasons, but I cannot help but wonder how we would interact if certain events had not occurred, if things had happened just a little differently.

He has no patience, and this shows in his work. The amount of time I have spent pulling him up for bringing a potion to the boil too soon, for adding an ingredient before the correct time could probably add up to a day, and I have entertained that thought many times. An entire day with him, being able to watch those eyes flash angrily and to know that it is me who is causing it, that I can and do affect him, even if it is not the way I would like to be able to. The thought usually moves on to how that day could perhaps have been better spent, and I dismiss it at that point because it is useless thinking of things that will not ever be.

I have told him that he has no patience, and the response to that was interesting, to say the least. Sometimes I wonder at the things he says, especially while he is in class. 'I must have some, at least, to have put up with you for this long', he said, and while I know that he didn't mean it any other way than as an insult, if you twist the words just slightly and change the situation…sometimes it almost sounds like he cares. But then, that is an impossibility. If he cared then why would his eyes and his face only convey anger and fear when he is with me? Why not something else?

In response to his challenge – and it was a challenge, a challenge of my authority and, perhaps, my own patience – I gave him a week's worth of detentions, and promised that I would teach him patience. I remember the look of apprehension that showed for just a second before the sullen look returned, and I wonder if perhaps I said it in such a way that made him suspect, just for a moment…

A great deal of thought went into his punishment. Muggle teachers used to make their students stand in a corner while they finished marking the class' work, and while it may seem rather unimaginative it serves two purposes. Firstly it will teach him the lesson that I promised, but it also gives me a chance to study him. The way that he stands, what he looks like…with the way the light from the torches reflects on his face and the shadows that are created he looks almost perfect. Almost.

I know what would finish the picture, what would perfect the image. No matter how long he stands there, not matter how much I ignore him he will not smile. I know that he would not be paying attention to what is going on in the room simply because of the amount of time he spends here. There is only so many times one can list the items in the room, only so long that a person can stare at that one particular spot. It is impossible that his thoughts do not wander, that he does not relive other events of the day, or perhaps create a story in his head to amuse himself. So why is it that he does not smile? 

It was on Monday that he started to serve his detentions, and today it is Friday, the last of his punishment. There is no work to be marked today, nothing that must be seen to and so I will make a potion that I have been developing. The idea behind it is not flawed as far as I can see, and the method works in theory. That does not mean that the potion will work when it is made, however – theory is fine, but I would like to know if this potion will work in reality, not just in theory.

He takes his position in the corner as usual, and I clear away my desk and bring out one of my largest cauldrons. He shows no interest in the change of pattern, and I begin my task. I have been working for half an hour when a droplet of moisture falls from the ceiling. I catch it before it has a chance to ruin my potion, and the sharp cold of the water rouses me from the intense state of concentration I have been. I glance over at him, and see that he is smiling. It is just for a second and so small that it is almost not there at all, but I feel a jolt of triumph and seal the memory of that smile away even as his face becomes blank. I wipe my hand on my robe and continue with the potion. When I am finished I leave the potion to cool and clear away the bench I was using before putting the torches out. It is late, probably one or two in the morning, and I am surprised to see him still standing there, just to the side of the last torch that needs to be extinguished. I cover the surprise with a smirk and cross my arms.

"Well now, it would appear that perhaps you have finally learnt some patience. Or, perhaps, it was simply your stubbornness that kept you here. You may go now."

He ignores the command veiled in that last line and looks at the potion, still in its cauldron.

"What's that?"

"That?" I am surprised at his interest. "That is whatever you desire it to be."

He raises an eyebrow, an action that infuriates me simply because it makes me want him even more, and I slip into a more condescending tone to expound on my statement.

"It changes to suit the wishes of the user. Unlike people, this potion is able to remodel itself to the wishes of others." I cannot resist the chance to draw out a reaction from him, and he rises to the challenge.

"And which part of me would you change if you could, _Sir_?"

The question shocks me. What can I say? That I would change nothing? That he would smile more when he is around me? While I would love to be able to say something like that I know what his reaction would be, and so I simply look at him until he is clearly forcing himself to maintain eye contact with me.

"To answer that question, Mr Potter, you would have to assume that there is something about you that I wouldn't change."

~ 'Overlap' (George's version)

I search your profile  
For a translation  
I study the conversation  
Like a map  
'Cause I know there is strength  
In the differences between us  
And I know there is comfort  
Where we overlap  
  
Come here  
Stand in front of the light  
Stand still  
So I can see your silhouette  
I hope  
You have got all night  
'Cause I'm not done looking,  
No, I'm not done looking yet  
  
Each one of us  
Wants a piece of the action  
You can hear it in what we say  
You can see it in what we do  
We negotiate with chaos  
For some sense of satisfaction  
If you won't give it to me  
At least give me a better view  
  
Come here  
Stand in front of the light  
Stand still  
So I can see your silhouette  
I hope  
You have got all night  
'Cause I'm not done looking  
No, I'm not done looking yet  
  
I build each one of my songs  
Out of glass  
So you can see me inside of them  
I suppose  
Or you could just leave the image of me  
In the background, I guess  
And watch your own reflection superimposed  
  
I build each one of my days out of hope  
And I give that hope your name  
And I don't know you that well  
But it don't take much to tell  
Either you don't have the balls  
Or you don't feel the same  
  
Come here  
Stand in front of the light  
Stand still  
So I can see your silhouette  
I hope  
You have got all night  
'Cause I'm not done looking  
No, I'm not done looking yet


End file.
